


Taking Flight

by dogmatix



Series: Wings [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: GFY, M/M, Obi-Wan has lots of sex, Obi-Wan whumpage, Smut, Succubi & Incubi, implied attempted non-con, implied future m/m/f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7355713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war had the side effect of sending Jedi to places they’d rarely gone, in the last few centuries. Unfortunately, sometimes turning over rocks meant finding nasty surprises waiting there. Obi-Wan was coming to hate surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Unrepentant smut (and also whump. Poor Obi.)

The war had the side effect of sending Jedi to places they’d rarely gone, in the last few centuries. Unfortunately, sometimes turning over rocks meant finding nasty surprises waiting there. Obi-Wan was coming to hate surprises.

“Soon,” the voice crooned in the darkness. “Soon, I will have you, and you will be mine.” Fingers trailed over Obi-Wan’s naked chest, and he shuddered in revulsion.  He had no sense of time anymore. He could have been here a week or a month.  The bindings over his eyes blocked him from seeing his captor, and whatever they had done to him made it hurt to touch the Force.  Without food, and with only a little water, he had to tap into the Force to stay alive, but the constant pain made it impossible to use it for long periods of time.

He’d tried reasoning with his captor. He’d tried yelling. He’d even tried begging, once.  No response except that infernal , placatory crooning, as if he were a nerf to be gentled before being led to the slaughter.   All he knew for sure was that the collar constricting his throat stank of twisted intent and a never-ending hunger. And it was leeching into him.

Rescue came none too soon.  Obi-Wan had never been so glad to hear the whine of blasters or the hum of Anakin’s lightsaber.  After his captivity, his captor’s death annoyed him only insofar as it meant that they had no information about the blasted collar still clamped around his neck.  Not a very Jedi attitude towards the worth of a living being, but he found it hard to scrape up any regret.

The medic aboard the _Resolute_ declared him…alive.  The bewildered look on the clone’s face kept Obi-Wan from a cutting remark.  Apparently, he was alive, if not fine, and there was nothing more medical science could tell them. Obi-Wan ate, but gained back none of the weight he'd lost in captivity. Obi-Wan healed, but slowly, and bacta helped only marginally. The collar had no catch, and although it was as supple as leather, it shrugged off every attempt to remove it, including Anakin’s lightsaber.

Anakin spent the three days of Obi-Wan’s recovery-slash-observation in medbay glued to his former Master’s side.  Obi-Wan dreamt of sex with Anakin every night, and woke from increasingly detailed dreams each morning. A cold, resigned fear settled in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

Halfway through the trip back to Coruscant, the Seps launched another attack on Ryloth. Obi-Wan stood silent and pale as the Council diverted them to the beleaguered world.  Anakin cursed Mace out to his face and Obi-Wan had to put a light, restraining hand on Anakin’s arm.

“We will divert to Ryloth,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

He and Anakin fought about that later, in private.  The fight ended with Anakin yelling in frustration, face only inches from Obi-Wan’s. The fight ended in a kiss.

Obi-Wan licked his lips, afterwards, sprawled over the couch with Anakin a hot, solid, snoring presence on top of him.  The worst of it was, he felt better than he had since he’d first felt the collar snap into place.  Fifteen minutes of making out like desperate teenagers should not have put Anakin into a deep sleep. They hadn’t even gotten their clothes off.

Anakin tried to apologize, the next morning. He seemed to think he’d taken advantage of Obi-Wan.  Finally, Obi-Wan had to admit what he suspected the collar was doing to him.  As he talked, his fingers wandered up to the snug leather-like collar, brushing over the sigils inscribed on it.  Disconcertingly, the collar was warm, as if it were itself alive.   Perversely, Obi-Wan’s confession made Anakin’s mood flip over from penitent to angry on his former Master’s behalf, as well as ready to have sex at the drop of a hat.

Obi-Wan turned him down flat.  He even brought up Senator Amidala. “Unless I’ve missed something, you’re still sneaking off to your dalliances with her every chance you get,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

Anakin blushed and scowled. “What- How do you know about that?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “It’s a bit hard to _miss_ , Anakin. Flinging yourself into your love’s arms when I’m standing _not two feet from you_ isn’t exactly subtle.”

“Wha- when did I- I never-“

“Geonosis.” Obi-wan said flatly.

“I’m not going to let you die because you’re too much of a prude to admit you have a dick,” Anakin scowled. “Padme would understand.”

“ _No_ ,” Obi-Wan replied firmly, and that was the end of it. For all of a day. By evening,  hunger clawing at his throat, Obi-Wan had Anakin pinned to a wall, locked in a deep, open-mouthed kiss as they rubbed off against each other, still fully clothed.  Anakin came with a breathless moan and collapsed into Obi-Wan’s arms, out cold.

Obi-Wan easily supported Anakin’s weight. His lips tingled and the afterglow of orgasm spread warmth  through him in a lazy wave. Obi-Wan finally felt full.

Anakin was lethargic the next morning, and ate like a bantha.  Obi-Wan watched Anakin shovel breakfast into his mouth with a half-awake single-mindedness, and fretted. By noon, the young Jedi seemed none the worse for wear, and Obi-Wan’s anxiety eased a fraction.

In fact, Anakin was the one to broach the subject of their deployment, because if things went the way they usually did, Anakin and Obi-Wan would be splitting up to make the most of their forces. Given that the battles might well last more than a few days, Anakin wasn’t willing to risk Obi-Wan falling over of starvation.  Obi-Wan tried to insist that it wasn’t going to be a problem, but Anakin was needlessly bullheaded when Obi-Wan’s life might be on the line.

That was how Cody and Rex ended up being brought in on the secret. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why Rex was there as well, but after all, why not? His embarrassment might as well be complete.

Anakin accusing him of being a drama-hog was irritating and disconcerting, given that Anakin was usually the one prone to that foible.

The trouble at Ryloth lasted only two days.  Using the Force was less painful than it had been during his captivity, which would have made Obi-Wan happy if it weren’t possibly another sign that the collar was changing him in some fundamental fashion, because while, yes, he could access the Force and it didn’t hurt enough to make him bite back a scream, it also felt a bit…different. Not Dark, thank the Force, but volatile and immediate, as if he’d been experiencing the Force through a layer of insulation his whole life, and now it was laid bare to him in all its wild glory.  It made his troops almost glow, in his Force-sense, drawing him to them like a moth to a flame.  It took some determination, but Obi-Wan was able to hold out until he and Anakin were back aboard the _Resolute_.  This time they even got their pants off.

They hadn’t yet been underway a full day before a resupply ship met them en-route and the Council diverted them to a siege on the Outer Rim. Anakin had glared daggers at the Council, but Obi-Wan had explicitly ordered him not to tell them what was happening with the collar. Even if the Council had pulled him off the front, that only meant that more clone troopers would die because Obi-Wan hadn’t been there to help. Anakin had tried to argue him out of it, and if Obi-Wan’s com hadn’t chimed to announce that the Council was calling, it would have ended in sex again.

The thought of riding Anakin’s cock in front of the entire Council was a _much_ more attractive thought than it should have been, dammit. Wondering if he simply had latent exhibitionist tendencies, or whether the collar was affecting him more than he realized, was enough to drive Obi-Wan into a state of paranoid anxiety.  Sex with Anakin that evening was a welcome distraction.

As if to make up for the fight on Ryloth ending quickly, the new conflict bogged down into a siege. Even by the second day, it was clear that this was going to be no easy victory.

Cody was the one who tracked Obi-Wan down and all but sat on him to make him agree to use the 212th for his needs. Obi-Wan hated to put it that way, but calling it ‘feeding’ was worse.

Anakin’s lecture about how Obi-Wan needed sex to survive had apparently made an impression, and Cody’s organized and ever-prepared nature had done the rest.  With his General’s permission, Cody spoke to a small group of 212th brothers, explaining the situation to them and asking them to volunteer to be in the pool of candidates for their General’s…needs. In the evening, they’d be pinged via their com to find out if they were available and felt up to committing the energy needed, and then of those who agreed, one would be chosen at random, and make his way to his General’s tent.  It was bad enough hearing the report from Cody – Obi-Wan’s face felt hot from embarrassment – but at least he hadn’t needed to be personally present for that part of it.

He did have to be personally present for every ‘session,’ though.  But as with so many things in the war, the truly shocking part of it was how quickly it became normal.

Each night, a different clone would slip into his tent, and afterwards Obi-Wan would carry the snoring man to a medic to be monitored and guarded while in the deep sleep brought on by their…activities.  By the end of the first month, it was an open secret that General Kenobi had certain needs that had to be met nightly. Obi-Wan had more sex than he’d ever had in his life. Some of his men were more experienced than others, and while a simple deep kiss was enough to satiate Obi-Wan and send his partner into a deep sleep, a few of the men were brave enough and adventurous enough to teach their General new tricks.  Obi-Wan found he quite liked intercrucal sex, which was easier to clean up after, as well as blowjobs, both giving and receiving.  Having his ass opened up and filled with the long, thick slide of someone’s cock loosened up the tension in Obi-Wan more effectively than anything else.  Sometimes, he topped, using his Force- augmented strength to hold his partner still as he drove them to distraction with slow, even strokes.  Depending on who was sharing his bed, sixty-nining was either a slow rise of pleasure or a race to the finish.  The more times he drew energy from his troops, the more he learned how to read the Force’s patterns, even with his heightened new awareness of its fire and flux.  He also learned how to gentle and control his ‘feeding’ so that his partner wasn’t in the next best thing to a coma for ten hours afterwards.

Obi-Wan felt slightly guilty about going against the spirit of the Jedi Code, if not the letter, for he was most certainly flouting the rule against attachment.  As the siege dragged out though, he had more immediate things to concern himself with.  Like not dying. And keeping as many of his troops alive as possible.  Especially if they’d shared his bed, Obi-Wan’s sense of one of his troops’ death was immediate and sharp. They lost Del the first month, Kelso, Rain, and Beater the second, and Stretch, Plop, Auk, Mince, and Teal the third.  Of the five in the third month, four happened in one day, and that night was the only night that Obi-Wan slept with Cody, badly needing the rock-solid stability of his second in command.

He was beyond compromised and he knew it, but he’d worry about that after the war.

They were drawing close to ending the siege.  Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if that was what made him careless, or if a droid simply got a lucky shot through.

He woke up in a med-tent, Cody’s ashen face hovering over him.  “That bad?” he managed to croak out, trying for levity.

“It should have been fatal,” Cody said, voice thick and harsh.

“Oh.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to say to that. He recovered within two days, which even with Force-healing was a bit of a miracle.  All that was left of the wound through his torso was a persistent itch along his back.

The 212th seemed to take his recovery as a sign that their General was either blessed by the gods or got refused entrance to the afterlife for being too much of a rabble-rouser.  Either way, morale was higher than it had been in months.

Five days later, they broke the siege.

Seven days and some vigorous bouts of sex(both with the 212th and with Anakin) later, the persistent itch across the middle of his back turned into a serious rash.

The next day, the collar vanished as if it had never been, and two dusky-black wings, thin and leathery and with a wingspan twice as long as Obi-Wan was tall, tore through Obi-Wan’s skin just below his shoulder blades.

“That’s new,”  Anakin said in a shocked voice, staring at the wings sticking out from behind Obi-Wan.

Fortunately they were both already lying down, or Obi-Wan probably would have ended up on the floor.  “Uh,” Obi-Wan managed, at a loss for words.

Anakin reached out and drew a finger along the underside of one wing, at the juncture where the arm turned into leathery skin.

“Nngh!” Obi-Wan replied as a shiver went through him and his hips jerked against Anakin’s. “Oh. Do that again.”

“Padme’s going to love you,” Anakin grinned, and complied.


End file.
